


Again You're Gone

by TheSpasticFantastic



Series: When All Is Lost [2]
Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:00:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21804796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpasticFantastic/pseuds/TheSpasticFantastic
Summary: Iduna copes with the consequences of her decision to save Agnarr and figure out what to do next.This takes place in the “When All is Lost” series roughly two months after the North is cut off.    "When All is Lost" the mostly canon-compliant Agnarr/Iduna relationship story collaboration between  Fericita[AO3]or[Tumblr]and myself.
Relationships: Agnarr & Iduna (Disney), Agnarr/Iduna (Disney), Young Agnarr/Young Iduna
Series: When All Is Lost [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1571230
Comments: 5
Kudos: 62





	Again You're Gone

In the weak dawn light, it was hard to distinguish the wall of mist from the early morning fog. Iduna cocked her head and could just make out the faint blue hue of the magical barrier that marked the spirit’s ire. She narrowed her eyes. It had been nearly two months. The snows would come soon and she knew that she wouldn’t be able to come back before the spring if she didn’t manage to get through today. It had to be today. Even if she hadn’t been able to get through the last two times, there was always hope. She crouched low as she edged along the clearing. The fat troll had caught her the first time and Iduna wasn’t about to make that mistake again. She far preferred the kind of living rock that helped her to the top of cliffs instead of the cryptic nattering of some granite lump of a leader that couldn’t give her a straight answer.

She didn’t regret saving Agnarr - the Prince – the King. She didn’t. She didn’t. Even in the worst hours of the night at the orphanage when she could barely breathe for the burning in her chest as she wondered if her family was still alive, if they worried for her as she did for them, and could hardly swallow for the lump in her throat – she never doubted that calling out for the Wind Spirit to save them was the right thing to do. He was just a gangly boy with a sweet, stupid smile and a sweeter nature who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He hadn’t even been carrying a weapon.

The stuttered call of a rock ptarmagin came out of the stillness. She could hear the breeze pick up and prickle against her face. She chanced a glance at the distant mound where the buried troll lay dormant before standing and approaching the swirling gray mass. Who would attack a boy like that? She hugged herself tightly, recalling the fight between her father and her brother Lemek before the Arendellian delegation had arrived. She loved her eldest brother dearly, but he could be quick to anger. But after seven weeks at the orphanage, she had stopped caring whether or not her people had started the battle. She wanted to see her parents. To hug her grandma. For Lemek to take her hunting with Ruben and Duvka again. She had to try to get home.

She reached the mist and reached her hands out. The Wind Spirit had brought her beyond the mist, maybe it could help her back in. Iduna shut her eyes and sang out. Nothing. She tried to concentrate and raised her voice in song a second time. Again, nothing. She wasn’t sure exactly what she was expecting, but an over excited rock ptarmagin wasn’t it. She sighed and opened her eyes, gritted her teeth, and lunged into the mist. And was promptly flung into the air. She yelped as she rolled across the hard ground. She got to her feet and ran head long into the mist again. And again. And again. Each time whatever magical barrier the spirits had put into place flung her out farther and farther. And each time she ran faster and faster. Until, finally, after a gasping and sweating and desperate sprint, the mist tossed her through the air so violently that she landed flat on her back and had the wind knocked out of her. 

Iduna lay there, silently gaping like a dying fish while tears burned hot and fresh down the sides of her face. There was a crushing sense of certainty that the spirits, and her very homeland, were rejecting her. Sniffling, she managed to pull herself onto her knees, and stare forlornly at the impenetrable fog that lay before her. It was mid-day before she managed to force herself to leave and nearly sundown before she made it back to the orphanage. Askel Runde, the eldest of three siblings who had lost both of their parents the same day she had been sealed off from her home, was splitting wood. He stopped when she spotted her.

“You left in the night again,” he said.

“I did.”

“And you came back again.”

“Yep,” she sighed and gave a little shrug.

“Eir wants to see you.” Iduna nodded. She thought Eir might. Askel looked at his feet. “Eydis will be glad you’re back. She was sad this morning when she woke and you were gone again.”

“I . . .needed time alone.”

“I understand.” In spite of her mood, Iduna bit back a smile. Askel was the most ancient eleven year-old she had ever met. He spoke like an elder. “I need time alone too. So I come and chop wood.”

“And we appreciate the warm fires your hard work brings, Askel,” she ruffled his hair and trudged towards the stone building.

“Iduna!” A tiny cry went up as she stepped inside. “Iduna is back!” Eydis flung her arms around Iduna and buried her face in her chest. Several of the other little ones thundered up, shouting greetings.

“Where’d you go?”

“Will you sing tonight?”

“Can you tell us the story about the trolls?”

“Didja bring me anything?”

“Yeah, what’d ya bring us?”

“Nowhere, yes, yes and I didn’t, but I’ll take you with me tomorrow to go berry picking,” she chuckled. After a few more minutes of noisy questions, the children melted away back to their chores.

“Worried about you,” Eydis said and hugged her tightly. Iduna returned the hug and tapped the tiny girl on her nose.

“You don’t need to worry, wee one. I just went for a walk.” She gave Eydis one last squeeze and stepped back. “I’ll see you at dinner, ok? I need to go talk to Eir.” Iduna found the stout matron sitting at the small writing desk in her bedroom. She tentatively knocked on the doorframe. Eir turned, smiled and put her pen down.

“I thought I heard a ruckus,” she motioned for Iduna to take a seat on her bed. “Glad to see you back again.” Iduna sat and forced herself to make eye contact. The first time this talk had happened had been difficult enough. The second had been worse. She liked the old woman.

“I . . .” she began. She shook her head. The words were beyond her. Eir reached out and gently placed a hand on hers.

“Iduna. You don’t have to explain yourself to me, dear. It’s like I said before, you’re more than welcome to stay here, but you’re not a child. Girls your age go into domestic service or the laundry or work in shops all the time.” She remained silent and looked down. She didn’t know how to do any of those things. She didn’t even know what “domestic service” meant. “But I hope you’ll stay.” Eir sighed and leaned back into her chair. “I do. But when I say that, I hope you’ll also stop disappearing because it upsets the little ones more and more each time. They adore you.”

“I’ve only been here a little while. They barely know me,” she said softly. Eir gave her a long look.

“They know that you pay them more attention than anyone else your age. And I don’t know who taught you herbal remedies, but I don’t mind telling you that I would personally appreciate your talents here this winter.” Eir shrugged. “But it is your decision.” She watched Iduna closely. “Do you know how I came to Arendelle?”

“No.”

“I was older than you, but not by much. My mother and sister died from a sickness that came to my city. Many people died and the king decided to quarantine.”

“Quarantine?” Iduna frowned. “What’s that?”

“It’s when they seal a city shut so disease doesn’t spread.”

“But what about the people inside the city?”

“They’re left to God.”

“But that’s horrible!” She gasped. What kind of leader abandoned their people?

“Yes, well . . .” Eir’s eyes went glassy for a moment. “My father put me on a ship. He gave me all the money that he didn’t use to bribe the captain. And the ship came here.” There was a long moment of silence.

“You . . .never tried to go home?”

“I thought about it, especially at first. The quarantine lifted after a few months. But by then I had word that my father had passed. And the money hadn’t gone very far, so I was working and couldn’t pay for passage. Then my homeland was invaded.” Eir sighed. “And I thought . . . this is a rather peaceful place. Or it was, until King Runeard, God rest his soul, built up the army. But even then, he used it for peaceful purposes.” Eir sighed again. Iduna bit her lip and forced herself not to fidget. “Who knows what happened in the north. But I promise you, dear, that you are safe here.

“So . . .you stayed because it was peaceful here?”

Eir smirked suddenly. “Well, there was also someone.” She chuckled. “He was a reason to stay.” Iduna shared Eir’s smile. “Have you been down to the town proper?”

Iduna quickly shook her head. Her brothers had always said she was a terrible liar. But Eir didn’t need to know that she was familiar enough with Arendelle to lead a reindeer-drawn cart through silent, empty midnight streets and leave it at the castle gates.

“I didn’t think so. We’re a bit isolated out here. Why don’t you go into town tomorrow? See what Arendelle is like? I have some errands you can run for me.”

“I promised Stig and Iggy I would take them berry picking tomorrow.”

Eir shrugged. “The day after then. Go see Arendelle. Maybe you’ll find a reason to stay.”

Iduna thought the skirt and blouse felt weird and itchy, too tight where it should have been loose and too loose where she expected some snugness. But Eir had been gently persistent and promised she could change back into her pants and top as soon as she returned. The boots were too large, but she had worn two pairs of woolen socks and then stuffed the rest of the space with water-sedge as soon as she was out of sight of the orphanage for warmth and comfort. The wind whipped her hair around her face, but with none of the playfulness she was accustomed to as she walked down the mountain road. It was just the wind. The road was wide, but the closer she came to Arendelle, the more wagons appeared. The more people. 

She clutched the parcel that Eir had asked she drop off at Market Square closely to her chest. This was a bad idea. Duvka had been to Arendelle before to trade. And her father had accompanied the delegation that had travelled south to negotiate the dam being built. They had both said the people in Arendelle were friendly enough, even if they drove a hard trade bargain. But as hospitable as could be hoped for. Of course, that was before the fighting. Iduna’s stomach turned to ice as she considered what these people must think of the Northuldra now. But aside from a few polite, disinterested nods or cursory greetings, no one paid her any mind. Although that hardly stopped her heart from hammering away in her chest as she caught sight of the distant castle and town at the bottom of the fjord.

It took her breath away for a moment. She hadn’t been able to see much when she brought Agnarr to the castle gates. And she certainly hadn’t been trying to stay around for day break to get a better look. She had simply run as fast as her legs could carry her over the cobblestone streets and out into the woods before anyone woke and caught sight of her. But now, she could see the size. The dam had been the largest thing she had ever seen anyone build, and she had no doubt it would dwarf even the large castle, but the dam was hardly as beautiful. There was the windmill that Duvka had described. She grinned. Her nerves were settling as she started to make out the landmarks her brother and father had told her stories about.

And the boats in the harbor must be huge if they looked so big this far away. And there were so many of them. The dirt road came to cobbles and Iduna laughed softly as the heels of her boots clicked along. How could people stand to make so much noise all the time? But rather than a headache inducing din, she found the chatter of the people and their shoes and their carts and their horses and oxen . . .well, a rather happy sound. It was like these people lived in a Group Festival every day. She quickly made her way into the heart of Arendelle, taking everything in. There were so many languages and styles of clothing and hats – how many different ways could people really wear hats? There were fish she had never seen in vendor stalls next to tables of fruits she had never seen. It was as though a whole world she had never been aware of – hadn’t even known she hadn’t know about – was coming here.

She marveled at the giant clock. Its metal hands cranking like magic. But she knew it wasn’t magic - Duvka had brought her a toy with gears once. Even her father had spoken of it with great admiration, even if it didn’t make sense. Keeping time. What did that even mean? Iduna doubted a person could keep time any more than they could tame the breeze. Lost in her thoughts, a smile on her face, it wasn’t until she felt a hand at her elbow that she even realized she had been gawking. Her blood ran cold. It was a soldier, tall and grim in his shako, tightly gripping her sleeve.

“You’ll excuse me, miss, but if you keep standing there you’ll get run over by a cart.” His ruddy face broke into a friendly smile. “If you want to see the little dancers come out, it happens at the top of the hour. Twenty minutes or so.” He nodded towards one of the shop fronts. “Good view from over there and it’s out of the way.”

“Oh – I, uh, h-hadn’t realized.” She forced a smile. “I’m sorry.” She clutched the package against her chest as he released her. 

“No trouble, miss. Nothing to apologize for. Just don’t want to see anyone hurt.” She nodded and thanked him again before quickly moving towards the Market Square. The last thing she wanted to do was attract attention from Arendellian soldiers. The Market Square was packed with people, but Eir had given her good directions and it only took her few minutes to nimbly dodge her way through the crowd.

“Mr. Monsen?” An old man with more beard than face turned around. He looked her up and down.

“Yes?”

Iduna held out her package. “Eir sent me from the orphanage. She said to give you this.”

“Oh did she? Well, splendid! That’s just splendid!” He reached out and took it from her. “Now you just stay here, my dear. I’m going to pop inside and get your payment. Help yourself to a strip of jerky, eh? Just don’t let anyone else nibble without paying.” He chuckled and slipped through a nearby door. Iduna shrugged and glanced at his stall. All sorts of jerky. Including reindeer. She took a strip and began to gnaw on it before wrinkling her nose. A five year-old could make a better piece than this back home.

“Well, I heard they found one of ‘em northern bastards claimin’ they couldn’t get back home.” Iduna froze. The voice was loud. And angry. And far too close for her liking. She turned slowly and chanced a glance in the direction of the speaker. He was large and carried a hook that she had no doubt he could use to skewer her to a ceiling. 

His companion, a squat fellow with a scarred face and barrel chest, snorted and spat. “Odd kind of lie, that. Couldn’t get back home. Our king and the soldiers are the ones who couldn’t get back home. What happened?”

“Dragged him out to the woods, didn’t they? Those people like their trees.”

“And?”

“Ain’t seen him around no more sayin’ he can’t get home.” There was mean laughter and then the big one spotted her. He stopped laughing and elbowed his friend. “Little ears,” he muttered. The squat one covered his mouth with his hand. 

“Sorry, miss.” They both wandered off through the crowd.

“And here’s your payment, young lady,” Mr. Monsen mercifully reappeared. He frowned. “Are you alright? You look pale.”

“I’m fine,” she said quickly as he handed her a small parcel. “I’ll see that this gets to Eir. Thank you for the jerky.” She strode off briskly through the square. The people were all starting to blur together as she ducked and weaved between them. It was starting to feel airless. She wanted to be back at the orphanage and out of this town Back in the trees. And then-

 _He_ was there. Iduna stopped short in the midst of the bustle. He was wearing that silly coat again – but it couldn’t have been the same one from that day. She had seen the blood and the dirt on it after he had been knocked out. The blue necktie that hung like a butterfly against his chest. A nose that would look too long on another’s face, but made him look a bit regal. The funny pace he set, as though he was still figuring out the proportions of his willowy frame. And the way the sunlight made the finer blonde hues of his hair golden. All the same. Except for his smile. That was gone.

Suddenly, he looked in her direction and their eyes locked. And his were so, so sad. His entire face was drawn and there were shadows even in the noon sun. He looked as though he hadn’t slept since . . .well, since she had saved him. He looked as though he needed a meal. Iduna felt the same dizzying lightness that she had felt the first time she had played with the Wind Spirit. That weightless rush of some excitement she couldn’t quite put a name on. And then she realized that he was looking through her and crashed back down to the earth. 

Iduna blinked several times. One of Agnarr’s guards leaned down and spoke in his ear. He nodded and they moved on. She watched as they made their way across the square, heading towards the bridge that led to the castle. It was like he had a tether to her core. It was like being back at the mist after it threw her that final time.

She didn’t remember exactly how it happened, but she found herself trudging back the dirt road to the orphanage. She was trying to assemble her thoughts. It was a good thing that he hadn’t recognized her. The trolls had said he might not. If he didn’t know who she was, then she was safe. She could stay. A rush of relief surged through her. She could. He didn’t know. The soldiers didn’t see her for who she was. The angry men had only seen an alarmed young woman. She could do this. She could stay. One day, maybe she could even see him with his stupid smile again. It was a good thing. So why did it feel so terrible?

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Thank you Fericita so much for the beta, the killer one-liners and the far superior endings to anything I can conjure up!


End file.
